


Dead Man's Dream

by fififolle



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Coming Out, Death, M/M, Pining, Trapped, Trope Bingo Round 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 14:22:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fififolle/pseuds/fififolle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a job goes to hell, Arthur fights to save Eames.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Man's Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This fits four of my trope_bingo prompts: trapped in a dream, deathfic, coming out and unrequited love/pining - giving me a postage stamp extra \o/ Thanks to celeste9 for beta services!

~

Arthur woke, choking and gasping. He clutched his chest and rolled over to his hands and knees, yanking out the line and sucking in as much air as he could. _Fuck._ His hand came away clean and he grounded himself with a deep breath. _Not dead._

He looked around, taking in the entire scene, and finally his eyes landed on Eames, who was lying perfectly still on the mat in front of him, line in his arm. 

“Eames,” he whimpered, not caring how desperate he sounded.

Behind him, Dom groaned and swore under his breath. “Well, _that_ went to hell. What the fuck – Oh shit.”

Arthur knew exactly what Dom was looking at. Because the guy they'd paid to watch them while they slept, someone they trusted, godammit, had shot the mark in the guts, stolen everything on his person and taken his briefcase. Luiz was lying in a pool of his own blood, his pockets turned out and his face ashen.

“The little shit!” Dom growled. “What did he do that for?”

“I don't know,” Arthur replied, his voice barely more than a whisper, “but I'm going back in.”

“What – Why?” Dom was standing right behind him now. “Oh fuck. Eames.”

“Yes,” Arthur agreed.

“But you can't. How will you – Luiz is as good as dead, Arthur.”

Arthur reached out and let his fingers trail Eames' jaw, his fingers trembling. Holy _fuck_ but he didn't want to lose this man. Not now. Not when... “I don't care. I have to try.”

“Eames missed the kick. You have no idea -”

Arthur leaned in and kissed Eames softly, then turned and looked at Dom. “I said I'm going back in.”

Dom's eyes were wide as saucers, his mouth open. He ran a hand through his hair and blinked. “Shit. I never knew... Wow.” He grinned, laughed nervously, and blinked again. “You and Eames?”

Arthur shook his head. “Not yet.” He smiled shyly. “But maybe.”  
“I had no idea you even swung that way, Arthur.”

“I. Uh.”

“Hmm. I guess you have to try then.”

~

Arthur had never been in a dying man's dream before. It wasn't as dark as he had imagined, and things were pretty much as he'd left them. That is, mostly everyone was dead, bodies sprawled around the square, blood everywhere.

Mostly everyone, because a slight, dark-haired woman was kneeling by a body, rocking and weeping quietly.

Eames.

Arthur moved closer, knowing the body was his own. He looked curiously at the shoes he was wearing, wondering why he had chosen them particularly, and feeling only slightly queasy at the sight of his suit that was completely ruined.

The woman had ignored his approach. She was clutching one of Arthur's hands, pressing it to her lips and kissing it over and over. It made Arthur feel odd inside. She was kind of pathetic, lying there in the street over his body, and yet...

“Hey. Let's go.”

The woman looked up at him, shaking her head. “I can't leave him.”

Arthur's gut churned. “It's me, Arthur. Come on, Eames, we have to get out of here.” If he could just get him away from the body, convince him he was alive – couldn't Eames see it was him? - maybe Arthur could take them out of the dream before it was too late.

She started sobbing again and rested her head on Arthur's chest, and Arthur stared at the bullet hole, his shirt soaked red around it. He reached into his pocket and felt his totem. Sure felt wrong to him, why didn't Eames know this was a dream?

“Your chip, Eames. Feel your chip.” He laid a hand on the woman's shoulder.

She sat up, wiped her eyes and looked at him. “I'm sorry?”

“Your chip. You must have it. This is a dream, Eames. You're forging Luiz's sister, Sofia, remember?”

Her brow furrowed a little and she reached into the pocket of her pants. She pulled out a red poker chip and turned it over in her fingers. “Too big?” she whispered.

Arthur felt a wave of frustration and pulled her upright, ignoring her squeals of protest. He clutched her by the arms, looking down into her green, frightened eyes. “It's me, Eames. I'm Arthur. I'm alive. And that poker chip is so damn big because your hands are so small. You need to remember! I don't know how you usually tell it's a dream with that fucking thing, but this is a dream, okay?”

She blinked up at him and opened her mouth, then paused. She looked down at Arthur's dead body, then back up at Arthur. She reached up with a small hand and touched his lips.

Arthur froze, the touch nearly overwhelming him. God, he wanted Eames back. He wanted Eames to touch him like that. Before, he hadn't been sure, but now...

“Eames. Please.”

She looked around the square, then wrapped her arms around Arthur and held him tight. “Everyone is gone. Why did they go?”

He held her tight. “Luiz was shot. Carter did a runner. We're in a dead man's dream, Eames, and time is running out.” He hadn't noticed before, but the edges of the square were beginning to fade now, black shadows swallowing the side streets until they disappeared into nothing. Arthur wondered how long they had before they disappeared too.

“Arthur, is that you?”

Her green eyes were clearer now. She stepped back and looked from the dead body to Arthur, and her fist was tight around the chip.

“It's me, Eames. I'm not dead. Please. I... I need you. The real you.”

She looked startled, and took another step back, before dropping back to her knees and cradling dead Arthur's head in her arms. “I've got you, Arthur,” she whispered. “I can have you like this.”

Arthur felt like he'd been punched hard. But he could see the square begin to close around them, the darkness encroaching, a cold wind on his face. He quickly knelt down beside her.

“You can have me, Eames. Any time, just not here, not in the dream. We have to go, _now_. Eames!” He grabbed her face, and kissed her.

She looked deep into his eyes and whispered, “You're not just saying that to make me leave him?”

He shook his head fervently. “Even Dom knows about us. I promise. Let's go, Eames. Please, for fuck's sake.” The sidewalk was swallowed into darkness only a few steps away.

“Dom?” she smiled, and took his hand as he stood up. “You told Dom?”

He shrugged. “He guessed when I kissed you.”

She looked half-pleased, half-jealous, and Arthur knew he mostly had Eames back.

“How do we get out of here?” 

“Dom said he'd...” Arthur spotted the train hurtling towards them across the square. “Perfect.” He pulled her by the hand and they ran in front of the train.

~

Arthur gasped, waking suddenly, shaking all over. He yanked out the line and looked around anxiously. Eames. Eames was there, sitting up, looking like he'd been hit pretty hard. His eyes lifted and he saw Arthur, momentarily uncertain.

“Eames. Fuck, Eames.” Arthur stumbled over to him, his legs still shaky, and threw his arms around the surprised forger. “Thank god.”

Eames felt warm and large and just right, and when he wrapped his arms back around Arthur, Arthur relaxed a little, closing his eyes and breathing him in.

“I'm sorry, darling,” Eames whispered. “That was a very brave thing you did, coming back for me.”

Arthur pulled away, smoothing his hair back into place. “I had to. I promise I meant... every word.”

Eames blushed, and smiled shyly, then glanced at Dom before looking back at Arthur. “I'm so glad.”

Dom began packing away the PASIV noisily, and muttered, “Jesus. You two? Get a room, will you?”

Arthur grinned at Eames and kissed him softly. “Anything you say, boss.”

~


End file.
